


Promises

by Snow0404



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU, Dystopian Future, F/M, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snow0404/pseuds/Snow0404
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grey. That was his world, his sight, until he began to have strange dreams of color. One color in particular. Each day he takes his dose from his oppressive leaders and he forgets this world of emotion and imagination. Until one day Alfred meets the man with the color of his dream in his eyes. Alfred's life will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

Was this color?  
This had to be. There was nothing else that came to Alfred’s mind. Nothing else that could name the vibrant splashes that danced behind his eyelids. It was beautiful. It transcended beyond anything that Alfred had ever seen, felt, or even experienced. It was beyond his nearly nonexistent imagination. This was something that no other was permitted to see.   
The final dance of color that flashed beyond his mind was deep and indescribable. It sparkled with a life all its own and it looked at him with something.   
Alfred’s eyes flew open and all he could see was white. He sighed heavily, he missed the color. He wondered where it had come from and where it went. He wondered if it even existed at all. Slowly he stood and his feet hit the cold tile of his room. He went to his meager bathroom and brushed his hair.   
Alfred looked at the mirror and nearly dropped his tooth brush. He looked different somehow. He couldn’t explain it but, it was in his eyes. They were blue, and his hair was gold. He ran a hand through it in wonder and leaned closer.   
His eyes were bright and crystal clear.   
“How have I never noticed this?” He wondered aloud.   
“Hey Alfred, are you ready to go?” His twin called from the other side of the door.   
He answered by opening it and gazing at his brother. To his surprise, everything about Matt was dull and bleached.   
“Matt,” Alfred asked slowly, “What…What color is my hair?”   
His brother seemed taken aback by the question. He leaned in close and looked him in the eyes.   
“What are you talking about Alfred? Your eyes are the same color they’ve always been.”   
“Which is?” Alfred prompted.   
“Never mind that, come on, we’re going to be late for work,” Matt said and pulled his brother along.   
Even as they walked in their single line to receive their daily dose, Alfred ran his hands over his hair and eyes. Almost as if he was trying to hide them, the color. He couldn’t understand why no one else saw it. He glanced at the enforcers, but they seemed oblivious to his blasphemy.   
Finally he reached the table.   
Small tablets of dull blue and white were cradled in small plastic cups. The old man with the round glasses handed him the cup.   
Alfred quickly took it and shoved it down his throat. He hated the taste of the dose, but he had to take it. Slowly as he walked to his desk, he passes a window. He glanced at it and saw he was the same as he’d always been. He wondered why he’d been so concerned earlier.   
All memory of color was gone.   
He dreamt of that single indescribable color again. A striking color that made him want to scream, cry, laugh, or shout, though he wouldn’t know how to do any of these things. Inherently he was taught never to smile, never to laugh, or cry, or emote at all. Yet, this single color pushed his teachings to the back of his mind.   
His eyes shot open and he sat up with a gasp. His chest was heaving and he was a sweating mess. He couldn’t understand what was happening to him.   
Alfred swung his legs and stood up, he walked quickly to the bathroom and stared at his image. Clear blue eyes stared back. Memories of the previous day flashed in his mind.   
Was this an illusion?   
Was he going crazy?   
Alfred ran a tired and shaking hand across his face and wondered, “What is happening to me?”   
He paused and simply listened to his own labored breathing. His head shot up and he realized his brother had not knocked on the door, wondering what was going on. He went out to their meager apartment and on the table there was a small note.   
“I’m going to work early. Rorschach asked for me.”   
Why would Rorschach want to talk to his brother?   
There was something strange in the pit of his stomach. He could not explain what it was, however. He glanced at the clock and another feeling stabbed at his stomach. If he didn’t leave now he was going to be late for his dose, and work.   
He hurriedly got dressed and speed out the door. His pace was brisk as he walked through the halls. His mind went to the color of his dreams and his eyes. He was so absorbed in his thoughts, that he didn’t see the other person rounding the corner.   
They collided in a mass of papers and books, both giving a small grunt of surprise.   
“I’m very sorry, sir. I was in somewhat of a hurry,” Alfred said and began gathering papers.   
The man didn’t respond only kept his head bent at the floor gathering his belongings. Finally Alfred gather them all and looked up at the man as he handed him the papers.   
Both froze.   
Alfred stared into the eyes of the man. His eyes were the color of his dream. They were a deep violet that sparkled with the same life as his dream had.   
In a trance the two dropped the papers and reached up their hands.   
“Y-You’re eyes…” Alfred stammered.   
The other man seemed to not hear him, “They are so beautiful,” he whispered in a heavy accent.   
“Who are you?” The man with the violet eyes asked.   
“My name is Alfred. Who are you?”   
“I am-,” Suddenly there was the stomp of boots coming their way. Quickly they gathered up the papers. As Alfred was turning to continue on his way, the violet eyed man grabbed his arm.   
“Wait. Can I see you again?” His voice was hushed but quick. Alfred had never heard this tone before and he found himself imitating it.   
“Yes, I would like that very much. Meet here tomorrow, at the same time,” he said and hurried down the hall. He glanced back but the stranger was gone.   
Alfred felt something unfamiliar swelling in his chest and the word hope sprang to mind. He wondered if this was hope.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by the music video and song Promises by Nero. It was also influenced by the Giver.


End file.
